


once, i was human

by softdadironman



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Child Abuse, Child Death, Child Neglect, Coma, Crying, Death, F/M, Heavy Angst, Hospitals, Hurt, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Peter Protection Squad, Protective Avengers, Team as Family, actual dad tony stark, best mom may parker
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:29:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23973043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softdadironman/pseuds/softdadironman
Summary: It was a dream come true - gaining superpowers, meeting his idols, and fighting alongside them. Fighting the baddies with his new powers made the pain of missing Ben a little lesser every day. He was strong, happy, living his best life.Funny how even when he's this powerful, he still hurts just like any other human.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Avengers Team, Peter Parker & Flash Thompson, Peter Parker & May Parker, Peter Parker & Ned Leeds, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker/Michelle Jones, Peter parker & Ned Leeds & Michelle Jones
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	once, i was human

**Author's Note:**

> TW: suicide attempt (not by peter), comas, psycho parents, parents who neglect their children, violence, death, a lot of bad stuff 
> 
> *this fic is inspired by both mcu and ultimate spider-man

She was so fragile. 

It was fun really. Short but fun. 

It went by so fast. 

It’s funny in a way. He’s reminiscing on a childhood he never graduated from. 

Peter Parker was only seventeen. 

  
  


“It’s hard to say at this time, but… I’m sorry, Mr. Stark. It’s not looking good.” 

An understatement of the century. 

Peter was a mess. It was obvious he hadn’t slept in days — it showed clear as day across his face. He sat by Michelle’s bedside with his hands clasped around her own. 

His eyes didn’t open when he walked in. 

“Hey, Peter.” His voice is soft like snow. 

Peter looks up slowly, scared to tear his eyes off of her, as if he looks away for a second she will crumble away. 

“Hi, Mr. Stark.” 

His voice is void, empty of what it used to be. Remnants of his bubbly voice trail off at the end, but Peter isn’t here right now. 

He doesn’t know this kid. 

“There was nothing you could have done.” 

Peter did look at him now. Tony was able to get a good look at the  _ hurt  _ in his eyes. His muddy brown eyes were red and crinkly — worn out for crying. He had no tears left. 

“Wasn’t there?” 

The room smelled horrible. 

Peter hasn’t showered since the incident. He hasn’t left her side. 

“No, Peter.” The stench fills his nose when he gets close to him. “It is not your fault.” 

“I killed her, Mr. Stark.” 

“Listen to me, kid.” When he grabbed him, he flinched. He let go of him. “This is not on you. You are not responsible for his actions.” 

“You can say his name, you know.” 

Peter leaned back in his chair. Even as he spoke, he stared at only her — as if she was the only one who existed. 

“Peter—“ 

Peter cracked a smile, but there was no joy behind it. “That…  _ That  _ thing. Took over… Flash.” 

Tony didn’t bother putting his say in this time. This is the most Peter has spoken to him in days. 

He’s quiet mostly. He sits in the room. He rarely gets up to use the bathroom, much less eat. He sits with her. 

Sometimes he hears him talk to her. 

“It wasn’t Flash’s fault,” he admitted, hanging his head. “It’s  _ not  _ his fault. It’s unfair for me to blame him, but—” He cut himself short. “I can’t even look at him.” 

And there’s nothing he can say in this situation. Nothing he say will lift the burden off of his shoulders. 

How he wished he could make it all better for this boy who has been through far too much. 

“It’s normal,” he says, at last, for a lack of anything begged to say, “to not be able to look at him. It’s okay.” 

Peter looked at him, shot him a half smile, and shrugged his shoulders. “Thanks, Mr. Stark.” 

He wished he could do  _ more.  _

Tony shut the door gently behind him. He tried to tuck away the photo of his poor Peter praying whatever gods out there to save his comatose girlfriend. He couldn’t bear it. 

May was in the hallway. Her back of the head was pressed against the wall. Her eyes were closed like she was deep in thought. 

“May.” Her eyes fluttered open. They were big, full with worry, but they shifted instantly. “Hey.” 

In times like this, there really isn’t many words to say. 

“I know you’re worried.” 

And why shouldn’t he be? 

“Aren’t you?”

“About him? No.” She took a view at his room. “We’re Parkers. We’ve been through this over and over again. My husband, my sister and her husband. Peter really loved them. He doesn’t remember Richard and Mary now, but… Mary loved that child with her whole heart. Everything she had.” 

She was lost in a smile before she snapped out of it. “Peter’s hurting right now, but he will be okay. This is… how he mourns. But he will come back. Give him time.” 

“You’re… so calm about this.” 

She raised her eyebrow. “Do I seem calm? My son’s bully got possessed by an alien and attacked her.” 

“Pepper’s doing what she can to fix this. I don’t know how Peter feels, but if that kid gets put on death row, Peter’s guilt will eat him alive.” 

“They won’t put Flash on death row.” May was clutching something tight in her hand, like she was pouring her whole heart into it. “The last thing the kids need is another dead classmate.” 

“Michelle’s not dead.” 

Tony turned.

Ned Leeds. Peter’s deemed sidekick. 

Funny enough, he talked about Ned just as much as he talked about MJ. 

“Ned… She…” 

“She’s not dead.” Ned’s face was red in the cheeks. “She can wake up. She  _ might.  _ People wake up from these things.” 

Tony was frozen. He couldn’t speak. 

He’s too soft to these children. 

“Ned, sweetie, it’s not…” She was across the floor and holding his hands in a moment. “The doctors don’t think she’s going to wake up.” 

“I  _ know  _ that,” he said, tears welling up. “But she’s going to wake up! She is! She has to!” 

“Her parents are getting ready to say goodbye; I think you should be getting ready too.” 

He sucked in a deep breath. “She’s going to wake up. She’s going to.” He slammed the door behind him. 

May sighed deeply. “They all mourn in different ways.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Please let that girl rest easy.” 

It was quiet in the small little room. 

There was the hissing sound of her ventilator, the barely audible drip of the IV, the bouncing of Ned’s foot up and down. 

“We were supposed to leave.” 

Graduation was soon. MJ has always wanted to leave and to never look back. She was a woman destined for bigger things. A genius, an activist, a  _ child  _ full of hopes and dreams and a full proof plan to save the world. 

“Has her dad come by?” 

Peter clenched his fist. “Her dad has been by, but if he doesn’t visit, that’s fine by me.” 

“She always did say she wanted to flick him off one last time before she died.” 

They started laughing — a harsh, broken sound that beat up his chest as he laughed. Peter grabbed on to Ned’s shoulders and they lost it, laughing loud enough that May and Tony outside would be able to hear. 

“Her mother, though, she… 

He had only met her a couple of times. MJ never had them over at her house, and she  _ never  _ let her mom around them. 

She’d told him once she was sick and left it at that. 

“I haven’t seen her much,” Peter said. “She sits in the waiting room for hours, though. Like… she’s still waiting for her to come out of the operating room. Like she’s not  _ here,  _ in this bed.” 

“MJ didn’t deserve this.” 

No. 

She didn’t. 

“Sometimes I expect her to just sit up and chew us out,” Ned said, chin resting on his open palm. “Or she’ll be looking out the window, or buried in a book.” He opened the curtains a little bit wider. “It’s stupid, I know.” 

“No,” he said, firmly. “No, I think it sometimes too. It’s hard to accept.” 

“I want her to wake up,” he said, stupidly. Of course they wanted her to wake up. Everyone did. “I keep thinking, maybe, just maybe, if I wish hard enough, it’ll come true. She’ll open her eyes.” 

Peter closed his eyes. Wondered if she’s seeing the same thing he is. 

He hopes she’s dreaming a nice dream. 

*** 

He showered. 

It took him a while, but after May’s constant nagging, he finally did. He rubbed the dirt out of his hair and let the hot water clean him. 

Yet, stumbling out of the shower, wiping the steam off the mirror, he couldn’t  _ look  _ at himself. He wasn’t clean. 

He carried the guilt on his shoulders everywhere he went. He visited her mother a few times, brought her flowers, but he didn’t want to visit her yet today. 

A way of punishing himself, maybe. Or maybe he couldn’t face her. 

Not after what happened to Flash. 

At least MJ’s mother cared enough to visit. Her dad who abandoned her  _ still  _ came by. 

“Get the  _ fuck  _ out of my room.” 

Flash looked like shit. 

His eyes were red and puffy. It was obvious he’d been crying. 

His skin is dry and covered in bandages. His arms are wrapped up and his hands are chained to his bedside. 

“Flash, I—“ 

“Who the fuck let you in here? Get him out of here!” 

A nurse came into the room instantly and was trying to calm him down. “Sir, please, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” 

Before Peter could even reply or think about leaving, a black tendril slithered out from his hospital gown and covered his entire body. 

Oh, god. Oh no. 

The nurse was grabbed by the throat and thrown into the window. 

This was bad. This was so, so bad. 

Flash — not Flash, this isn’t Flash, this isn’t the person who killed —

No. This is a monster. 

The nurse is sound asleep, and he can already hear the doctors coming. His suit forms over him as he jumps out the window after him. 

The monster is blocks away when he sees him. He shoots out a web, free falling in the air. 

“Incoming call—“ Peter grunts out a strangled, “I’m a little busy” before Karen finished her sentence. “Should I tell Mr. Stark you’ll call him back later?” 

“Tell Mr. Stark that I’m chasing down the alien running down Main Street!” 

  
  


It was easy to follow him with the mess he left in his wake. He knew the Avengers would be here soon - he can already hear the familiar sounds of Iron Man’s repulsors. 

“Holy shit, Flash! Flash, fight it!” A car is thrown his way, and he swiftly dodged it, running over the hood of it and jumping towards him. 

Peter didn’t really have a solid plan put together, which was a big mistake on his part because the second he touched him, the black goo surrounded them both. 

Flash’s face was contorted in pain. He didn’t even notice Peter. 

“Flash, it’s me.” He touched the side of his face, and he got smacked for it. “Flash, it’s okay.” 

“Spider-Man?” he asked, voice in pure shock. 

Oh, for Pete’s sake--

“Yeah, Flash, listen to me closely, okay?” 

“I’m so sorry,” he apologized, eyes widening in a mix of fear and pain. “Spider-Man, I can’t… I couldn’t  _ stop  _ him. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt her.” 

“It isn’t your fault,” he promised. 

If he was smart, he would’ve told him he could fight it, that he’s stronger than this. 

But telling him this was so much more important. 

“Nobody blames you,” he said slowly, clasping the sides of his face. 

Man, he hates Flash. He hates him so much, yet he can’t bear to see him suffer through this. 

“This is not on you.” 

Flash lifted his head, eyes full with a newfound hope of forgiveness. 

He could do this. He could fight it. The tendrils were fleeting, and Peter’s voice got caught in his throat. “Yes, Flash! You can do this!” 

As soon as it left him, the pain left his body. He was free, aloof. Peter saw the backdrop of New York behind him. 

The carefree expression morphed into pure fear, but before he could react, Peter’s world went black. 

  
  



End file.
